Lorne of the Dead
by Superbeans
Summary: When Jimmy Pesto ordered in some new, cheaper meat stock, he thought he was being a great businessman. Little did he know the meat carries an unexpected surprise... (Zombie apocalypse AU)
1. Chapter 1

The skies above were a dull, washed out grey, and barely a breeze dared breathe. Of course, there was the obligatory newspaper tumbleweed blowing about, minding its own business, but where would a small town be without one?

In a word, boring. That was the kind of day it was. A nothing day.

A black SUV rounded the street corner and trundled down the road, its passengers surveying the local businesses. Given where it juddered to a halt, you'd be forgiven for thinking they'd stop at the local burger joint. But nope. One, two, three excitable kids pointing manically at the bigger Italian place across the street made for a good persuasion.

So the SUV's engine was silenced, and five pairs of feet hustled out of it, crossing the road and away from the burger joint. Its moustached owner flailed at them all in clear frustration as one of them kicked the newspaper tumbleweed, prompting the outrage of what looked to be his son.

The two parents muttered noncommitally to each other as the father ushered the Italian place's door open, and a friendly bell jingled their welcome.

"Wow, what an atmosphere!" The father exclaimed. "Much better than that place across the street!"

"Isn't it just?" The cleft-chinned owner gave both parents a warm handshake, and then shot a secret sneer at his rival across the street. "Jimmy Pesto, owner of the establishment. What can I get you?"

He guided the family of five towards a table near the back of his restaurant, encouraging his young son to finish his meal.

"But dad, it tassstes funny!" The lad lisped in protest.

"Ohh, it's just a new recipe, son. You'll get used to it." Jimmy Pesto waved away his son's complaint. "How 'bout you, Hugo? Enjoyin' my food?"

He gestured to the squat little blonde man at a different table. With a fork and a frown, he picked moodily at Pesto's offerings.

"Well, I can't say it's the best lasagne I've ever eaten," he chewed his words carefully. "What meat did you say it was?"

Pesto balked at the health inspector's challenge. "...I didn't."

The blonde man's mouth tightened, and he subjected Pesto to a wider stare than before.

"Eheh, well uhh..." Pesto fiddled with the neck cuff of his shirt. "Venison?"

"Lamb!"

"Duck!"

"Unicorn!"

"Human!" Came the suggestions from other patrons in the restaurant. The health inspector's grimace widened.

"Well, I'd suggest that you solve that riddle, Jimmy Pesto," he contemplated the plate's contents. "But the taste is... fine, I guess. Your restaurant is clean, and your food is at least edible. So I suppose you pass, Jimmy. Here, take this."

"Well would you look at that? A pass! Can't get much better than that!" Jimmy received his certification with glee, and wasted no time flashing it about to his patrons. "Much better than that place across the street, eh Hugo?"

"Oh, you mean Bob's Burgers?" Hugo's voice took a sudden, sharp edge. "Well I'll just see about that."

Jimmy gave his certificate an overdramatic kiss, and waved the health inspector and his assistant Ron away. Hugo took a lengthy stare at the humble little greasy spoon across the street, "...let's get going, Ron."

"Right," Ron nodded, and scooted around to the passenger side of their plain white van. The tall man scribbled notes down while the short one fired up the engine, and pootled off down the street.

And then immediately returned on the other side. Black smoke belched out of the van's exhaust as the pair of them got back out again.

"Why didn't you just walk across the street, Hugo?" Ron frowned at him.

"Shut it Ron! It's all about intimidation!" Hugo whipped off the sunglasses he'd only just put on. "Fluster the enemy, that way they're more likely to slip up! Now let's get in there and bust their asses!"

"...okay," Ron mumbled, and followed after his shorter cohort.

With an authoritative lunge, Hugo practically threw himself into the dive. "Time for a health inspection!"

The man behind the counter gave an audible sigh. "...good morning Hugo."

"You don't seem at all surprised by my visit, Bob," Hugo slapped a clipboard down on the counter, "why is that, I wonder?"

Bob blinked at the shorter man opposite him. "...Ron's been signalling us for about half an hour now."

"Dammit Ron!" Hugo raged at his coworker. "What is the point of a surprise inspection if you're just going to warn everyone first?! We might as well just give the van a siren and luminescent paint!"

"Well it probably could use a-" Ron began.

"Shut it Ron! Go and wait in the van!" Hugo ordered. "That way you can't screw anything up."

Ron scratched at his cloud of hair, "alright then," and walked back out with a grunt.

"Right, now that that's out of the way," Hugo's smugness was back in full swing. "Bring me your finest produce, Bob. I'll see if I can't yet shut down this little dive of-"

But Hugo was stopped mid-sentence. His accusing finger was hastily withdrawn, and instead he clutched at his stomach with both hands. With an ominous gurgle, the blonde man slipped to one knee.

"Ughhhhh..." He groaned, as clammy sweat exploded across his body. "Regrettably Bob, I... I must ask if I could please use your restroom."

"Are you sure?" Bob's son Gene popped up out of nowhere. "Because I've been evacuating some troops of my own!"

Hugo staggered back to his feet, swaying from left to right as the bathroom crept closer. "I'll... I'll take my chances, Belcher boy. Now would you remind me to give Jimmy Pesto another visit after I shut you down... Bob?"

"Sure thing Hugo," Bob deadpanned, and wiped down the counter for what felt like the fiftieth time that day. "Hey, do you... need a hand?"

"I'll be... FINE, Bob!" Hugo insisted. He dragged himself from the booth he had been leaning against, and into the restroom. With a bang, the door was slammed shut and locked.

"...well, least I won't have to clean that up, eh Gene?" Bob chuckled dryly.

"That would depend on many circumstances, father!" Gene was the font of knowledge on that particular subject. "For example, he could-"

But Gene's sentence was also brought to a sudden stop. His father was preoccupied with a stain on the counter that he'd found. He walked out through the front door, and felt the wind blow his hair back. "Hmm..."

The skies outside had darkened, an oncoming storm maybe. But there was a touchable, sort of electrical feel in the air, and it wasn't from the clouds above. There were dozens of people outside earlier, and now most of them had disappeared. The few remaining were moving funny, almost like they were sleepwalking.

Gene recognised Jimmy Pesto Jr. among the ranks, stomping about with his arms outstretched and eyes all empty. He and a few of Pesto's other customers were struggling about outside, while people were panicking and screaming inside the restaurant.

Gene brought a hand to his chin. This was all slightly suspicious!

"Daaaad?" He paraded back into his father's diner. "It's like a Michael Jackson song outside!"

"Which one?" Bob was still focused on the stain on the counter.

"Uhh... most of them?"

"You mean like a flash mob?"

"Sorta."

And Bob's concentration was finally broken by the thundering of feet downstairs.

"Oh Bobby, it's awful!" His wife Linda cried, and dashed over to the store window with Gene.

"The world's gone nuts!" His youngest Louise screamed in delight as she joined them.

"What's going on?" His eldest Tina slipped out from the kitchen.

Bob frowned at the four of them. How could a flash mob be this interesting? It was just people dancing. Nothing they hadn't seen before. And yet Lin called it awful?

"Alright alright, I'll take a look," Bob conceded, and came out from behind the counter. Curiosity had gotten the better of him it seemed, what with his entire family watching it.

But Bob's inquisition quickly turned to shock, and then horror was much less flash dance, much more Thriller than he'd originally expected,

"Oh, God."

* * *

**Author's note:**

**Hey everyone. I'm importing this back from ao3, simply because I think some readers might enjoy it. Far as I'm concerned, every good fandom needs a zombie apocalypse AU, so here's my take. Please enjoy, and feel free to offer feedback if you have any. Over and out :3**


	2. Chapter 2

The town was in chaos. People were screaming, cars were already on fire and smashed, and several of Jimmy Pesto's patrons just stomped around aimlessly. His son included.

"Hmm..." Gene Belcher squashed his face against the window. "I don't think I know this song..."

"That's because it's not a song, Gene," Bob tried to keep his voice calm. But damn it, the quiver snuck its way in there.

"Well that's just unfortunate father!" Gene sounded disappointed, "Because I was about to create the backing track!"

From nowhere it seemed, the boy had acquired his keyboard, and his dexterous fingers plucked out two keys and a fart sound.

"I-I don't think they'd appreciate it anyway, Gene," Bob advised. "Now let's all just-"

"Critics!" Gene was outraged, "you are a SCOURGE!" He yelled out the front door.

"GENE!" Bob held his son back, "now is not the time! We need to get upstairs and - wait, where's Tina?"

Both he and Gene looked around, as well as Louise and Lin, but his eldest child, quiet as she was, couldn't be seen.

"Maybe she's upstairs already?" Louise suggested with a shrug.

But then it happened. Linda's voice took on that panicky tone she reserved for those moments.

"Bobby! Bobby look!"

Bob's stomach wrenched.

"TINA!" He yelled, bursting out the front door and into the madness outside, "Tina, get back here!"

But his shouting fell on deaf ears. For Tina was currently distracted by someone else.

"Why hello Jimmy Junior," her voice was light and cheery, as Pesto's boy staggered towards her. "Fancy seeing you out here at this time."

"Tina!" Bob shouted again, struggling against sudden gusts to reach his unperturbed daughter. "Tina no!"

"Brainsss...?" Jimmy Junior gave a quiet mutter. The distance between him and Tina was closing with every shuffled step, but the young girl seemed completely oblivious to the unfolding bedlam around her.

"You're getting super close, Jimmy," her voice sounded almost... warm. "How are you today?"

"Tina, get back here!" Bob ordered against the wind and rain, but again to no avail. Jimmy Junior gave a little moan, and his arms swayed towards Tina.

"Aww, a hug?" She practically swelled, and offered her arms. Jimmy Junior twitched a little, and then staggered back a bit, before lunging.

"Tina!" Bob cried, and swung and arm around her waist, dragging her to safety just in time. Jimmy Junior's lunge just barely missed her, and the lad toppled over from his efforts.

"What? Dad, wait!" Tina protested, flailing to free herself from his grip. "I-I just wanna talk to Jimmy J-"

"Tina, listen very carefully," Bob held his daughter close. "Something's not right here. It's not safe. Do you understand me?"

"B-but Jimmy-" Tina began.

"TINA!" Bob's voice silenced her. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger like that! What kinda dad would I be if I did?!"

Tina swept her bangs out of her eyes, and took a good look around. There was broken glass and blood and fire and smashed things everywhere, and Jimmy Junior wasn't the only one acting weird either. Her eyes glazed over just a little as the gravity of it all finally set in.

"C'mon T, let's get back inside." Bob encouraged, and steered his daughter in the other direction. "Hunh? Lin? What're you guys doing out here?!"

"We've got a little situation, Bobby!" Linda cried, clinging Gene and Louise close to her. Bob glanced past her, and spied Hugo inside the store, just as lifeless and stompy as the rest of them.

"Ohhh, crap!" Bob exclaimed. "What'll we do now, Lin?!"

Without taking his eyes off the enclosing mob, some of whom were good acquaintances, some he barely knew, Bob stretched out and grabbed a broken chair leg that was conveniently on the ground a few feet from them all.

"Alright Lin, I think I can hold them back for a while," Bob gulped. "You take the kids and get far away from here. Far as you can, got it?!"

"B-but Bobby!" Linda stammered. "Don't do this to me Bobby! I don't wanna-"

"Lin! There's no time to argue!"

Bob tightened his grip around the chair leg, wielding it like a baseball bat. "Just get behind me, everyone. Once there's an opening, all of you run for-"

But Bob's train of thought was derailed by a car horn beeping animatedly at them.

"Quick, get in!" Ron shouted from his van, opening the passenger door and flailing at them.

"There's a better idea!" Louise screamed over all the madness, and Bob knocked one of Pesto's patrons sideways with the chair leg to clear a space.

"C'mon c'mon!" He beckoned, ushering everyone into the van. Slowly did the town's residents circle back around the van.

"Hah! Can't get us!" Bob laughed at the hapless zombies on the other side of the window. "Alright Ron, hit it!"

"...hit what?" A dumbfounded Ron just stared at him.

"Hit what..." Bob chuckled. "The gas, Ron. Get us outta here, buddy!"

"Can _I _hit the gas?" Gene interjected with a smirk.

"No, Gene."

"...I don't have the keys." Ron deadpanned.

"You don't have the keys?!"

"Hugo doesn't trust me with them."

"Dammit Hugo!" Bob roared at the window, where he could still see Hugo wandering aimlessly inside his little burger store. One of the zombies slashed at the window and cracked it, shocking Bob back to his senses.

"What do we do now, Ron?!" Bob flailed.

"I-I dunno, I just thought it was safer in here," Ron shrugged in response.

"Yeah, until they break in through the windows!" Bob cried, as bloodied hands hammered against the glass.

"...I hadn't thought that far ahead." Ron just smiled meekly.

"Oh God...!" Bob's voice jumped up a notch. "Lin, they're getting in!"

"It'll be okay Bobby, we'll think of something!" Linda tried to comfort her husband. "A-any ideas, kids!?"

"They're just misunderstood, Mom," Tina answered calmly.

"Perhaps some soothing music to help the situation?" Gene suggested, playing three dramatic keys on his keyboard.

"Not helping, you guys!" Bob panicked.

Meanwhile, Louise had had enough. "Alright, out of the way!"

She squirmed across from the passenger and seat into the footwell, "some space, please!"

Ron obliged, and pulled the seat back as far as it would go, while Louise pried off the panel under the steering wheel with a screwdriver.

"Louise...?!" Bob's voice was still panicked and angry. Where did she even get the screwdriver?

"Concentrating, dad!" Louise retorted, and pulled necessary things out of the way. "Knife anyone?!"

"Err... pliers?" Ron suggested, as a mottled, greying hand smashed through the window.

"That'll do!" Louise grabbed them from him, and scraped away the plastic covering on two wires, "Alright Ron, foot!"

"Foot where!"

"On the gas pedal!" Louise groaned, and pressed the wires together. The van's engine spluttered and gurgled, but with an angry roar, came to life.

"Go go go!" Louise ordered, and Ron floored the accelerator. The van bounced off down the road, knocking down anything in its way.

"Won't, turn!" Ron wrestled with the steering wheel.

"Try harder!" Bob cried, giving him a hand. There was a heavy thunk as something broke, and the van screamed around the corner, scratching against other cars and knocking down more residents. One of them splattered into the windscreen of the van, looking momentarily confused before attempting to smash the window with its stump of an arm.

"Alright, taped!" Louise called victoriously from the footwell.

"Music!" Gene fired up a pre-recorded techno beat from his keyboard.

"Wipers!" Bob cried, hitting the switch as Ron was preoccupied with trying to see. The wipers activated, but did absolutely nothing to remove the decaying zombie on the front of the van.

"...that always works in the movies!" Bob complained.

"On the contrary, father!" Gene raised a finger of knowledge. "This zombie must have seen all those movies, and prepared accordingly!"

"That's a lot of zombie movies..." Tina mused.

"A-Alright everyone, I've got an idea," said Ron. "Hold onto something, got it?"

Louise scrambled out of the footwell and joined the rest of her family, who anchored themselves the best they could.

"Hard, RIGHT!" Ron cried. The van screeched with indignation as it was forced around a tight corner, almost tipping over in the process. The zombie was launched off of it, and smashed through one of the windows of Wagstaff school.

"It's good!" Louise cackled in delight, only to loose her footing as the van swerved.

"Careful Louise honey!" Linda cried, and dragged her youngest close. "All of you, stay with me, got it?!"

"...so, any idea where we're going?" Ron asked after a while.

"You don't know?!" Bob exclaimed. "Then where were you driving?!"

"Away from the zombies." Ron shrugged.

"And then what? Just drive around in circles til we run outta gas?!" Bob flailed at him.

"...In hindsight that's a pretty bad idea," Ron reasoned. "I-I was hoping you'd have one."

"Well now I'll have to, won't I?!" Bob cried.

"Calm down Bobby!" Lin's soothing touch on his shoulder. "You'll think of something, just... take it easy, okay?!"

"Rather we'll think of one for you!" Gene decided.

"Pff. Alright then kids," Bob pinched at his nose. "Hit me."

Louise raised a fist.

"With your ideas, Louise!"

"Aww..." Louise pouted.

"Reach out to them and come to some kind of understanding?" Tina suggested.

"Charm them, with the power of dance!" Gene hit a chord.

"I've got a shotgun in the back?" Ron threw a thumb backwards.

"YES!"

"NO, Louise!"

"Let's just find somewhere safe first, Bobby!" Linda pleaded.

"Well maybe we should LOOK OUT!" Louise screamed again, and Ron barely had time to swerve and avoid the head-on collision. Tyres screeched in protest as the van struggled to slow down, yet the power line loomed ever closer.

"Ohh, goddd...!" Bob grabbed one of the kids and wrapped them close to his chest. Linda did the same with the other two. Ron fought and wrestled, but the old van just wouldn't allow it.

Glass smashed, and wood splintered.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, my god..."

Bob could taste the metallic sting of blood. "What happened...?"

It was a blur. It was all a damned hallucination. No matter how much he massaged his aching forehead, he couldn't summon the events that preceded this. Last thing he could recall was Ron rounding the corner in the health inspector's van... heh, he had to laugh at the irony. Hugo would've killed him if he'd-

But then realisation kicked in. The pain was only getting worse, but with every strained movement Bob could force, did this reality get worse. Everyone else!

"L-Lin?" His voice was croaky. "Kids...?! Oh god, please be al-"

"Bobby...?" His wife's voice called from behind, and his sobbing heart jumped for joy.

"Lin!" Bob wrestled to remove the seatbelt. "You're okay?! How are the kids?!"

"We're all fine, dad..." A drowsy sounding Tina mumbled. His eldest was clutching onto a sore head and scratched glasses. Linda had blood in her hair, while Louise had a bruised face, and Gene was holding onto a damaged arm. Oh, god...

"You're all alive...!" The man held back his sobs. "Isn't it kinda weird how we all woke up at the same time? I mean it's-"

"Save the speesh, dab..." Louise's voice was all bunged up. No surprise there. "We're still in a lobba trouble, remebber?"

"Huh?" Bob frowned. He looked around again, and only now did he notice their surroundings. The van had crashed into a street lamp and bent around it like a paperclip. Well, maybe not a paperclip. More like someone trying to bend a pipe or something, but wasn't strong enough to bend it properly. Either way, the thing was totalled. Cracked glass, smoking engine, unconscious Ron in the driver's-

"...oh."

Joints, bones, sinew... _everything_ screamed in protest as he wrenched forwards to check the poor guy.

"C-c'mon Ron, time to wake up buddy..." Bob coughed. Pain gurgled up from his depths, and he grimaced at the taste of more blood. His hand found Ron's neck amidst the gentle stream of blood, and sourced a weak heartbeat.

"Okay, okay, he's not dead. That's something."

More pain. God, why did being injured have to hurt so much?

"Uh, uhmm... Lin, we're gonna have to get outta here. Ron's really hurt, and he's gonna need to get to a hospital or someth-"

"We've got bigger problems, father!" Gene pointed with his one good arm at the cracked windshield. Towards them, they shuffled. Slow, clumsy footsteps, mottling greyish skin, raised arms and bloodshot eyes.

"Well isn't this a fine situation?!" He raised his voice, but quickly stopped, because that hurt. With a wheeze and a cough, he winced at more blood in the mouth, "L-Lin, we're gonna have to get somewhere safer."

"In this condition, Bobby?" Linda's voice had that tone again. Things were never good when her voice went like that.

"We don't have much choice, Lin." Bob sputtered. "R-Ron said he had a shotgun back there... I think. Anyone see it?"

"Right here, dab!" Louise had already pounced on it.

"She's just like Sigourney Weaver in Alien!" Gene thrust his good fist into the air.

"Except with a shotgun. And zombies. And a green dress." Tina noted.

"G-good job Louise," Bob strained a smile. "Now give it here, alright? Is it loaded? Lemme ch-"

"Yup!" Louise cocked the shotgun back and smirked at the two fresh pellets glinting in the limited light. Or at least it looked like she smirked, because her face was all bruised. Guilt gnawed in Bob's stomach, seeing his three babies like this...

"O-okay, well that's... good," he gulped. "Alright, here's the plan. You kids stick close to us, Tina can you see sweetie?"

"...kinda." Tina squinted in his vague direction.

Bob grimaced at the developments. "...alright, well one of you kids can help Tina. Your mom and I will carry Ron, and we'll find somewhere safe. Sound like a good plan?"

No one immediately argued. That was a good start.

"...then wha' was the point in finding the shobgun?" Louise tightened her grip on the weapon.

"S-so I have something to defend us with, Louise." Bob almost laughed. "C'mon, I would've thought you of all people would know what a shotgun is-"

"How many arms do you have, father?" Gene asked. "Ganesha frowns upon you!"

"What do... what do you mean, Gene?" Bob scratched his head.

"You can't hold Ron and a shotgun at the same time, Bobby!" Lin translated Gene's point.

"...ah." Bob conceded a finger. "W-well then maybe you, Lin?"

"I'm in the same position as you, Bobby! We're carryin' Ron, remember?"

"...Tina?"

"I-I can't see, Dad. Because my glasses are broken, remember?"

"Gene?!"

"I have but one functioning arm, Dad!"

The reality was growing on him, like a pursuing nightmare. Bob wasn't sure what was worse; the actual zombies outside, or the fact that he was going to have to trust his youngest with a deadly weapon...

"...alright fine, the plan, take two." Bob clapped his hands together. "Lin and I will take Ron,"

Louise's bruised face was turning slowly more manic with every growing second.

"Gene, you help Tina. She can't see too good right now,"

The glint. That sparkle in his youngest's eye was a little bit terrifying.

"Louise..." Bob sighed pointedly. "I'm gonna have to trust you with the shotgun. D'you think you can-"

"YES!" Louise already had the thing cocked and ready. With one eye trained down the barrel like a pro, it was the most alive he'd seen his nine year old since this whole debacle had begun.

"Al-alright, let's get started," Bob unclipped Ron's seatbelt. "Everyone remember their jobs?!"

"You only told us a moment ago, Dad," Tina's deadpan was ever present.

"...I know, T." Bob sighed. "Okay, positions everyone."

His body groaned and ached in protest as he forced it out of the van. The door practically fell off, which made things easier. Linda and the kids got out of the back doors, and Gene kept Tina safe. Louise of course took her chance to point the shotgun everywhere.

"Okay, it's going good so far," Bob rubbed at his sore chest. "Ready Lin?"

"Real quick now, Bobby," Linda quivered, as Bob wrenched at the driver's side door. With a rusty groan, the battered metal peeled open, revealing a bloodied and messy Ron, still out cold in the seat.

"Okay Ron, careful now buddy..." Said Bob, as Ron flopped out and practically into his arms.

_"Why thank you for saving me, Bob. That's really great of ya."_ Bob made a mockery of Ron's voice.

"No problem, Ron. Least I could do." He conversed with himself. "Now if only Linda could-"

"Bobby." Lin shut him down. "Not the time, okay?"

"...sorry," Bob tried to chuckle. "Y-you take the legs, got it Lin? Kids, you're gonna have to scope out a safe place for us to hide, got it?"

Ron's legs swung out of the van, and Linda linked each under an arm. "Ohh, he's heavy Bobby! Are we gonna be okay carrying him?!"

"M-maybe if it's a short distance..." Bob puffed. "Louise?! What's the situation?!"

"All fine, Dad..." Louise groaned. "These zombies moob too slow to be a fret." She cocked her shotgun, and pointed it in the vague direction of a few shuffling residents, who were a good thirty metres or so away.

"Oh god..." Bob strained under Ron's dead weight. "I gave my nine year old a shotgun. I'm like a Texan!"

"Don't flatter yourself, Father!" Gene protested. "Your voice is not nearly sexy enough!"

"...thank you Gene." Bob's moustache twitched. "There anywhere safe nearby yet?"

"Dad, at thif rate we could jus' s'ay here an' be safe," Louise groaned. "These zombies move WAY too slow!"

"We can't just stay outside, Louise," Bob was about three steps too slow. "We all medical attention, especially Ron, and it's way too cold to-"

"Dab, it was a joke. Calm down."

"...oh."

"Hey," Tina suddenly lit up. "How about Mr Fischoeder's place?"

The group stopped in their tracks.

"...why there, Teena Beena?" Someone had to ask. Might as well have been Linda.

"I-it's a really big house, and the grounds are huge, so the zombies might get lost in it, a-and..." Tina trailed off. "Is that it over there...?"

She raised a shaky arm towards a large structure in the distance.

"Hmm..." Gene mused. "Are you _sure_ you can't see?"

"I can see a little. Like I said earlier, remember?" Tina adjusted her glasses.

Several exchanged stares, and one tacit agreement.

"Well, knowing Mr Fischoeder, he probably has some kinda anti-zombie defence system in place," Bob reasoned.

"Like a machine gun!" Louise shrieked.

"Or chilli fries!" Gene added in, "what? Zombies love chilli! I know I would!"

"...either way, it's as good a place as any." Bob said. "Problem is... that's where all the zombies are."

He nodded over to the towering structure along the street, where the bulk of the hoard seemed to be for some reason. They might've stuttered along at a desperately slow pace, but they were right in the way, as if they all knew.

"They gonna be a problem Louise?" Bob huffed. Ron was getting heavier by the second.

"...we'll be fine, Dad," Louise groaned. "Sewiously, we could craw' there and still beat 'em. It's debreffing."

"Yeah we'll... j-just make sure you're ready to shoot."

Louise rolled her eyes. Her only chance to blast a zombie with a shotgun, and the damn things weren't even posing a threat. Talk about a disappointment. The family crept closer to Fischoeder mansion, as zombies slowly closed in on them, occasionally moaning or stumbling. But aside from one lazy swipe in their general direction... nothing. Not even a growl or something.

"C'mon, c'mon, moob your molasses," she ushered everyone through the front gate.

"I'm sorry..." Bob grunted, heaving Ron's weight up yet again. "That this zombie apocalypse isn't exciting enough for you, Louise."

"Damn right you are." Louise huffed.

"Maybe we'll let you blast one later, honey!" Linda encouraged.

"Lin..."

"What? It's not like they can get any deader!"

"We shouldn't be encouraging this!"

"Just enjoying the moment, Bobby!"

"Speaking of moments!" Gene interrupted. "Maybe we should ring the doorbell?!"

Bob and Linda just stared at each other.

"...yeah, you're probably right."

Both parents were still holding Ron up, so Gene took the initiative, and hit the button that would save everyone and make him look like the hero that he blatantly was!

One, two, three times the bell rang, followed by some sort of bird noise.

"Ahh, the morepork!" Gene cried. "My favourite bird!"

Bob wasn't even sure he'd heard of the thing. "...why, Gene?"

"We are kindred spirits, Father!" The boy announced. "They want more pork, and I want more pork! Any animal that wants food is good in the book of Gene!"

"So like a magpie?" Tina suggested.

"My other favourite bird!"

"Jellyfish?" Said Linda.

"Very much so!"

"...Hamster!" Bob finally came up with one.

"Excellent work Father, if a bit slow!"

"Honey badger!" Louise cried.

"YES!"

A short burst of laughter slowly dissolved back into an awkward silence as the door remained closed.

"...alright, that's enough food animals," Bob said.

"There is never enough food animals!" Gene cut in.

"Gene," Bob warned. "Seriously, we need to focus on getting inside now. Try the bell again."

"Alllrighty!" Gene raised a finger to ring the bell again, however some metal scraping could be heard from behind it, as it opened a crack.

"...Oh, well if it isn't Bob and the Boblings!" Calvin Fischoeder peered through the crack in the door. "Might I ask you state your business on this fine evening?"

"H-hello Mr Fischoeder, nice to see you." Bob forced a smile. "Hey I uhh... don't suppose you could let us in, could you? There's zombies out here, and we kinda don't wanna get-"

"I'm afraid I can't, Bob. After all, there's zombies out there, and I would rather not get eaten, as I am especially delicious."

"But we don't wanna get eaten either!" Bob cried. "...wait, you're delicious? How would you... know?"

"Why do you think I wear an eyepatch, Bob?" Fischoeder responded so matter-of-factly that the awkward was almost palpable.

"Because you're..." Bob fished for the least insulting word he could think of, "...quirky?"

"Perhaps," Fischoeder nodded slowly. "But I'm afraid I can't comply, Bob. After all, I wouldn't want to risk you and your Boblings compromising my anti-zombie defences."

"Well, then... let us in and we can't." Bob said. "Besides, how can we pay you rent if we're zombies?"

"There is no zombie tax, Mr Fischoeder!" Gene added.

"Oh, you needn't worry about that, Bob, I've got a paying tenant In here already." Fischoeder announced. "Isn't that right, tenant... man?"

"T-That's right, Mr Fischoeder," came a familiar voice from the other side of the door. "Sorry Bob!"

"Wait, is that you Teddy?" Bob frowned. "Teddy, you gotta help us! These zombies are getting kinda close, though they're sorta slow I guess, b-but Ron needs medical help, and he's _real_ heavy!"

Teddy made some kinda whining noise, like a lost dog, and mumbled something at Fischoeder as Bob kept an eye trained on the zombies. They'd made it past the front gate, and were slowly closing in on the family.

"O-okay Mr Fischoeder, we banked a lot on you letting us in, so could you please?!" Bob couldn't hide the note of panic in his voice.

"I'm not so sure, Bob," Fischoeder spoke from the other side. "How do I know that you're not all zombie...ish? You are rather bloody."

"That's because we were in a crash!" Bob pleaded. "But if we get turned into zombies right outside your door, wouldn't that be worse?!"

"Makes no difference to me Bob, I've got cannons!" Fischoeder argued.

As he spoke, there was a loud explosion from above as a mass of smoke engulfed one of the rooms on the top floor. But no cannonballs rained down on top of the zombies.

"...well that was anticlimactic," Fischoeder groaned. "Not unlike my first date, I must admit. But nevertheless Bob, I'll have to ask you to stand out in my yard and get eaten by zombies now, if you don't mind. Felix...!" He called back to elsewhere within the building, "That was terrible! What have you been _doing_ for the last three years of rehearsal?!"

Fischoeder backed away from the door, "be right back, Tedworth," and marched up a set of stairs, leaving the Belchers with Teddy.

"Teddy, quick! Let us in!" Bob hissed.

"You got it Bob," Teddy replied immediately, and unbolted a series of locks to let the family in.

"What, just like that?!" Bob cried. "I thought we were gonna have to offer you our first born or something!"

"You kiddin' Bob? I wouldn't betray you for the world! Though if you're offering your first born I'll gladly take Tina off your hands?"

"I-I'm fine thanks Teddy," Tina smiled. "I prefer you as my uncle anyway."

"That's fine with me," Teddy grinned. The zombies slowly shuffled closer, but their efforts were for nothing as the door to Fischoeder mansion closed on them.

Except when it opened again for a second.

"HAH!"

There was the blast of a shotgun as two zombies were sent flying, scattered across the pavement.

"SO satisfying!" Louise cried, and again sealed the door behind her.

"You got 'em good, sweetie!" Linda praised.

Bob wrestled the shotgun off of her, and asked, "So what're you doing here, Teddy?"

"Fixing Mr Fischoeder's sink," Teddy mumbled. "Though this ain't like any sink fixing film I've ever seen. No ladies, for starters."

"I think I've seen that one!" Gene shouted.

"Gene..."

"Yeah, things started getting weird as I was finishing up, and Mr Fischoeder was nice enough to let me stay," Teddy explained, as Louise frowned at something in a corner.

"Are you sure you're alright though?" Bob voiced his concern. "You're looking kinda pale."

"Ohh, I'm just a little shaken up, is all," Teddy explained, as Louise tugged at her father's shirt. "After all, it's not every day there's zombies outside, huh?"

"Eheh, yeah, I guess not," Bob chuckled. "Well, makes a day more interesting, doesn't - what, Louise, what's wrong?"

"Err Dab, you should prob'ly see thith." Louise's tone was serious. From out of Fischoeder's trash she handed her father a ball of paper.

On it was the slogan for Jimmy Pesto's restaurant.

Bob's eyes widened. "Oh, god."


	4. Chapter 4

Bob could feel the tension in the air as he examined the ball of paper. How Louise had even noticed something so inconspicuous, he'd never know, but the facts were staring him right in the face. Complete with Jimmy Pesto's stupid mocking laughter.

"Y-you know what this means, right dad?" Louise whispered, as Teddy helped Lin drag the still unconscious Ron to a couch in the next room.

"I know, Louise. I know." Bob kneaded his forehead. "But we should probably keep this quiet. That way they won't know we're onto them."

"Well yeah, but it could be anyone," Louise muttered. "And Teddy's looking real pale right now. Almost like a-"

"Teddy IS looking real pale right now!" Gene joined in with a shout.

"Hi, what're we all whispering about?" Tina knelt down next to them all as well.

"Oh god..." Bob could feel his fingernails break the skin. "Alright kids, calm it. I was just saying to Louise that we should be careful. Because of this."

He unwrapped the paper ball again, and showed it to his two eldest.

"Of course...!" Gene hit several keys at once on his keyboard with his bad arm. "It all makes sense now."

"What does?" Tina squinted through her scratched glasses. "I still can't see very well, remember? Is that the logo for Jimmy Pes-"

"Sshhh!" Bob hastily hushed her.

"But I-"

"Quiet down Tina! They'll hear you!"

"Who will h-"

"Just shush, okay?" Bob showed his daughter both palms. "I'll handle it, just... trust me."

"...okay dad." Tina gave her father a nervy smile. Bob smiled back, and screwed the paper ball back up tight. No one was suspicious. No one had to know he knew. He had to suspect everyone. Even Teddy, his loyal best friend. The man seemed perfectly fine, in hushed if jovial conversation with Linda, but as Louise said, he was looking really pale. His love of fatty food was no secret either, but... would he really?

"Bobby...!" Linda called over from the next room. "What're you all doin' huddled around that trash can? We haven't reached the foraging stage yet!"

"N-nothing, Lin!" Bob plastered on a smile in record time.

"He just saw himself in this trash can, mom!" Louise shouldered her way in. "A man needs something to aspire to, you know?!"

"Yes! After all, he too is round and full of garbage!" Gene chipped in.

"Y-yeah, and dad is also... oh." Tina was too late as always.

"That'll do, you three," Bob chastised the trio.

"Well get yourself over here already, Bobby!" Lin pointed at an early armchair. "We found medical stuff! Come get fixed up!"

"Lin, I don't think a roll of bandages is gonna help broken ribs," Bob fell into the armchair, feeling his battered joints protest.

"Oh nonsense, bandages make everything better!" Linda shot him down instantly, "now lean forward and lemme give ya the sexy bandage, Bobby!"

"I believe it is pronounced _bond_age!"

"Gene...!"

Despite her husband's protests, Linda slowly got her way, uncoiling the roll of fabric around his chest and shoulder.

"Just a roll, around, an' another roll around, an' I think that oughta, do, it~" Lin sang to herself, tying and snipping the bandage. "Okay, now you do me!"

"Alright, Alright..." Bob grunted, and made a spirited yet vain attempt to sit up through the sheer mass of bandages.

"I don't think stay-puft can reach you, Mom!" Louise said. "Here, kneel down, I'll get it."

"Thank you, Louise..." Bob gave up on his flailing. He looked to his ridiculous amount of bandages, and chuckled. "Guess I'm your mummy now, eh kids?"

"HAH!" Gene humoured him.

"A mummy to go with all these zombies, right Tina?" Bob called past his son and into the adjacent room, "...T, you there?"

There was a sudden noise as Gene hit a key on his keyboard. "Maybe she's exploring!"

"In Mr Fischoeder's house?" Bob started flailing again. "That sounds like a bad idea. He's probably got a bottomless pit or something to catch intruders. H-hey, help me up Lou-"

"BUSY, DAD!"

Bob sighed. This was all super convenient. Tina was absent, Gene had a bad arm, Lin was getting wrapped, and Louise was busy wrapping her. It looked like he was going to have to-

"I gotcha Bobby," a pale, clammy hand gripped at his and wrenched him from the armchair's depths. Once again, his joints screamed in protest at being used. That awful metallic taste built in his mouth again, but he was on his feet again at least.

"Th-thanks, Teddy." He wheezed, holding onto a nearby lamp to steady himself. "I've gotta... whew! Gotta... go find Tina. Kids, look after your mother, got it? You can't come with me, just in case it's-"

"Wasn't gonna ask," Louise stated so bluntly that Bob stumbled. She tucked the last of the bandage underneath itself atop Linda's head, and dusted off her hands.

"N-not even a little?" Bob frowned. "W-Well... fine then! I'll take Teddy with me through this creepy house!"

"You do that." Louise flopped onto a nearby couch.

"Don't worry dad, if you get eaten we'll make a special burger in your honour!" Gene said.

"It better have a good pun!" Bob cried.

"Oh, it will!" Gene shouted back. "I was thinking of 'Another One Bites The Mustard'!"

"Pff..." Bob didn't laugh, because he was trying to be mad. "Th-that's acceptable!"

He exchanged a look with his kids and wife. "Teddy and I are going now! Going through this dangerous house to find Tina! Going away now...!"

And all three of them did exactly nothing in response. Gene just continued making fart noises with his keyboard, while Louise stared blankly at the ceiling, Ron was still out cold, and Linda was massaging her forehead. Maybe the adrenaline had finally worn off, and pain sunk in.

"I'll... see if I can find some painkillers for you Lin," Bob sighed. There was no point in getting mad at them all, especially not Linda. There were zombies outside after all. This wasn't exactly a normal day.

"Make it a red if you can, Bobby..." Linda grunted.

"...take care of them, kids." Bob's voice was hollow as he and Teddy left the room, closing the door just in case.

It wasn't all that bad. At least now, the only things concerning him were out here with him, and not in there with the kids and Lin. All he had to do now was find Tina, maybe some food too, and get back to the room without anything attacking him. Easy enough!

Through the silent hallways he and Teddy crept, making awful attempts at staying quiet, because every damn floorboard seemed to creak beneath them, and neither of them were exactly steady right now. Through the rain shattered windows Bob could see the haunting silhouettes of the town's affected residents. Some shuffling about aimlessly, others just standing there and occasionally quivering, he could feel the anger percolate inside of him. That stupid Pesto, putting the whole town in jeopardy over a couple of bucks... it was enough to make a man want to-

"So. While we're on the subject," Teddy spoke suddenly, and Bob felt the shock burst across him. "What was the Burger of the Day, Bobby?"

"Teddy, that was ten minutes ago," Bob scoffed. Rain spattered calmly onto the windows, leaving a wavy outline of the pair of them on the walls. How long were they going to have to hold up here? Definitely not an answer he was looking forward t-

"I-I know Bob, I just thought I'd break the silence y'know?" Teddy smiled bashfully. "After all, bein' quiet never helped anyone, huh?"

"It... kinda would right now, Teddy," Bob muttered, as the hints of whispering beckoned from a distant hallway. Was that Tina? Who was she talking to?

"O-okay, I'll be quiet Bobby," Teddy said. Before instantly blurting our. "But what was the Burger of the Day, Bob? I gotta know!"

"Oh, my god..." Bob pinched his nose. "It was uhh... it was called 'To Dill a Mockingburger, Teddy'. Dill pickles instead of normal ones."

"That sounds like a good burger, Bob." Teddy smiled. With a hefty intake of breath, he let out a deep, low whistle, "I-it's so hot in here, aren't you hot Bob?"

"C'mon Teddy, trying to listen h-"

"But aren't you warm, Bobby?!"

"...no Teddy. If anything I'm freezing. Now shh!"

"Oh right! Quiet..."

Teddy continued to sweat like a lion in a butcher shop, and pair slowly crept towards the distant whisperings.

"This is bad Bobby," Teddy perspired, dabbing his forehead. "W-we should go back to the sitting room where your f-family are. It's safe there!"

"And just abandon Tina?" Bob frowned at his best customer. Of all the things the handyman had said today, that was both the most suspicious and insulting. The sweating, the nerves... just what was going on here?

"B-but what if she-" Teddy protested again, however his sentence was dissolved into a gurgle as they saw a familiar face rounding the corner.

"Tina?!" Bob cried, dashing forwards and knocking the poor kid over in an attempt to hug her, "Oh god, oh sh-...sorry T. Here, lemme help you-"

"I-I'm fine Dad." Tina said, dusting herself off. "Where've you been?"

"Looking for you?" Bob raised an eyebrow. "After all, you disappeared and went all the way to... what the hell?"

Bob stopped, and actually took the time to look around. "Are we back at the entrance?"

Everything from the porch to the entrance hall, and even Linda's drowsy singing in the distance, was the same. Had they really just gone around in a circle?

"Maybe the house is shaped like a donut Bob?" Teddy suggested. "Or-or a burger, or sausages, or..."

Teddy smacked his lips several times, before his sentence was lost to drool.

"...anyway." Bob tried not to worry about that particularly worrying sight. "What're you doing here Tina? We were worried about you!"

"I was listening," Tina squinted up the staircase, and Bob indulged, cupping a hand behind one ear.

"Listening to what?"

Tina looped an arm around her dad's, and adjusted her glasses.

"Mr Fischoeder."


	5. Chapter 5

Bob, Tina and Teddy huddled together at the bottom of a spiral staircase where the silhouette of Mr Fischoeder was conveniently illuminated against the wall. Bob presumed it was from a lamp or something.

"Now now, Felix," Fischoeder chuckled, his nerves betraying his voice. "Wow, you sure are bitey today, aren't you? You abandon cannon duties just to bite your dear brother? For shame!"

"Oh, god...!" Bob muttered, as a second shuffling silhouette entered the picture. "It's not Teddy, it's Felix!"

"Mr Fischoeder's brother?" Tina adjusted her glasses. "Hmm..."

"What's not me?" Teddy squinted at Bob. "Wait a minute..."

"I had to suspect everyone Teddy, I'm sorry." Bob sighed.

"B-but I don't look like a zombie!" Teddy flailed back at him. "...do I?"

"Ask the zombie expert," Bob said. "...T?"

"I dunno dad. I still can't see that well, remember?"

"Pale, clammy, irritable?"

"O-oh, yeah, that sounds pretty zombie-ish," Tina nodded. "But also like mom when we're out of snacks?"

"I guess..." Bob mused. Maybe Teddy was just withdrawing because of a lack of meat. Understandable, he supposed.

"Either way, let's... let's get somewhere safer, huh guys?"

"You got it Bobby."

With Teddy leading the way, and Bob guiding Tina, the three made their way back towards the room where Linda and the others were.

"Oh crap, I forgot!" Bob suddenly cried. "I told Lin I'd get her a wine!"

"You sure that's a good idea Bob?" Teddy frowned at him.

"She's already in pain, Ted." Bob explained. "Without any wine or... snacks or something, she'll be worse than the zombies."

Into another room they went, where Bob simply picked up the first bottle of something alcoholic he could find. "That'll have to do. Trust me on this one bud-"

But the conversation was derailed by a sudden pounding on the window. Both Bob and Teddy turned to see Mort of all people hammering on it.

"Mort?!" Bob cried, "Oh god, Teddy! Help me with the window!"

"B-but zombies, Bobby! They're chasin' him!"

"That's why I need your help! Real quick now!"

"Urrggghh...!" Teddy groaned, but despite it all, helped Bob to wrench open the big window. Mort wasted no time in jumping, flailing, and scrabbling his way through, clearing it just in time for a clawed hand to slash at his leg.

"Get it closed!" Bob yelled, and Teddy forced it shut again, trapping a zombie arm in between. It broke off with a loud snap like a tree branch, and began flailing about all on its own.

"Whew! That was close!" Bob swept the sweat from his forehead. "What're you even... doing here Mort?! How'd you even find us?! You coulda gotten killed!"

"Oh, I was just on a leisurely stroll out in the woods, and -oh, and I just happened to find a cure!" Mort was suddenly smug as he pulled a bottle from jacket.

"Stroll in the woods?" Bob and Teddy exchanged a look. "When are you ever-"

"Sarcasm Bob, c'mon," Mort shook his head and smirked. "It's embalming fluid! Where would I find that in the woods?"

"Balm tree," Teddy snickered.

"Wild Balm-fallo," Bob elbowed him.

"Balm-sa w-oh," Tina's idea fell through half way.

"A-hah, real funny guys." Mort rolled his eyes. "Anyway, where's the rest of you? Linda and the kids? They're okay right?"

"I'm right here," Tina mumbled.

"Oh! So you are!" Mort scratched his head. "Sorry Tina, didn't notice you."

"The others are just through there, so don't worry," Bob said. "We were seeing if we could find food, and then you showed up."

"And saved your butts!" Mort added victoriously.

"...so how's it work?" Teddy didn't bother with niceties.

"Well, it's pretty simple really," Mort smirked. "Long story short, embalming slows down decomposition after death, right? But if done right, it can also restore the bodies to a more uhh... presentable state!"

"Go on..." Tina nodded at him.

"E-heh," Mort blanched. "That's all I got really. It's just the simple matter of-"

Suddenly there was the splintering of glass, and several mottled greenish arms lunged inside, grabbing Mort.

"Oh?!" Mort shrieked, flailing his limbs for all he was worth.

"Mort!" Both Bob and Teddy cried at the same time, lunging forwards to pull him back.

"Nng?! Agh!" Mort gurgled, as an arm slashed at his waist. "I'm... I'm done for, Bob! You guys... get outta here while you... can!"

"I'm not leaving you buddy!" Bob exclaimed. "I'm not just letting you die!"

"Here, take this!" Mort pushed the bottle into Bob's hands. "Just apply it to them, and it should be f-fine!"

"Should be?!"

"Well I didn't exactly have time to test it! We'll go with a strong maybe?!"

"Oh, god...!" Bob groaned. "Teddy, help us out here! We gotta get Mort to-"

"Bob!" Teddy shook him. "It's no use! Even if we get him away, he'll turn! And then we'll have a bigger problem!"

"Ugghh...!" Bob wrenched at invisible dumbbells. "Dammit Teddy! We can't just leave him!"

"It's okay, Bob," Mort smiled. Despite zombies clawing at him, he found the strength to just... smile. "Just do me one favour and make sure I get a proper send off, alright? It'd be real ironic otherwise, huh?"

The glass in the window cracked some more, and more zombie arms grabbed a hold of Mort.

"N-now go!" He winced. "You've got like a minute, tops, before this window breaks. So do me a favour and live, eh Bobby?"

"...I'm sorry Mort!" Bob covered his face and turned away, stumbling as fast as his battered body would let him.

"You're a real hero Mort." Teddy sniffled, and chased after Bob.

"I'll never forget you, zombie Mort." Tina smiled at him.

"...thanks Tina." Mort's voice was thick.

She, her dad and Teddy rushed back down the hallway towards the big room where everyone else was. Meanwhile Mort was doing nothing to calm the situation down,

"Oh, g-AH, this is so much worse than I thought it'd b-OW! I decided, I'm not okay with this you g-"

There was the splintering of more glass, followed by the tearing of flesh. Mort stopped screaming.

"Dammit...!" Bob had to rest against a wall. "Why Mort?! Why not stupid Jimmy Pesto or-"

The vision of a white suit lurched towards him and groaned.

"Dammit...!" Bob cried.

"Careful Bobby," Teddy grabbed Bob by the shoulder. "Back away slow now, huh?"

"Oh hello, Mr Fischoeder!" Bob's voice was venomous. "What's that? You're wanting your rent money?! Hah! That's typical you!"

Mr Fischoeder just stood there, groaning softly.

"I-I... I don't think that's wise, Bob." Teddy whispered.

"W-well here, Mister Fischoeder! Here's your rent money!"

Bob uncorked the bottle Mort had given him, and threw the liquid at Fischoeder. "Keep the change!"

The liquid sizzled as it splashed Fischoeder in the face.

"HAH! HAAAAH!" Bob threw the glass to the ground. "How's that for a back payment?!"

"Good throw dad," Tina mumbled.

"Hell yeah it was!" Bob cried. "Was your dad a bit of a badass there, Tina?

"A-a little bit, yeah," Tina nodded.

"Seemed kinda wasteful though," Teddy was the one voice of reason. "I mean, where we gonna get more of that stuff?"

"Ehh, Fischoeder probably has a stash of it somewhere," Bob shrugged. "I mean, I know I'm relying on that a lot, but hey, I just dropped the em-BOMB on h-"

Fischoeder continued to sway, moaning softly.

"What?! Why didn't it work?!" Bob flailed.

"Maybe Mort was wrong?" Teddy gulped.

"Oh, crap." Bob felt himself deflate. "Okay, new plan! Run!"

"But you can't run, dad!"

"Then speed-waddle!"

The three rushed back to the room, with a shuffling Fischoeder in hot pursuit.

"Hunh? Bobby? What's wrong?!" Linda sprang upright as they barged in, then wincing and regretting it instantly.

"Fischoeder's a zombie!" Bob spluttered, clutching at his knees.

"Oh. Guess he was especially delicious after all. Good for him." Linda mumbled.

"No Lin, bad! Fischoeder's a zombie, and he's outside the damn door!"

"Well that's okay, because he has to knock first."

"I'm afraid that is vampires, mother!" Gene corrected her.

"Oh..." Linda blinked slowly. "Did ya find me a wine at least, Bobby? And hello again Teena Beena! Where you Beena?!"

"Uhh, I found bourbon? Is that okay?" Bob handed her the bottle he'd found earlier. "Alright Mr Fischoeder, stay back! I really don't wanna shoot you!"

"Don't worry dad," Louise said. "With an aim like that you won't have to."

"And you were happy to melt him earlier," Tina chipped in.

"Let's not shoot Mr Fischoeder," Linda chugged down a mouthful or two of bourbon. "He doesn't deserve that, not re-HEY!"

"Sorry mom!" Louise wrenched the bottle from her. "But we gotta deal with Fischoeder! Light?!"

Suddenly there was silence, with only Fischoeder softly scrabbling at the door.

"C'mon, light?!" Louise cried again. "Teddy! Handyman! Get me your blowtorch already!"

"Th-that's in the other room!" Teddy shrugged.

"UGH, the one time you don't have it on you?!" Louise had found an old washcloth, and stuffed it into the bottleneck. "Where are we gonna find a-"

There was a slight clink that grabbed her attention.

"Looking for one of these?"

With one bleary eye, he held up a lighter, its little flame dancing for victory.

"Ron, you beautiful bastard!" Louise cried, and grabbed it from him. "Not a moment too soon! Everyone get back!"

Louise ignited the rag, and everyone jumped away from the door as Fischoeder continued to shuffle against it.

"Well someone open it?!"

"You said get away!"

"Well yeah, but I can't throw this at a door! It'd be a waste! C'mon, quick!"

"Okay, okay..." Teddy gulped, and carefully edged the door open before retreating again. Fischoeder just stood there.

"Uhhhhn?" He moaned softly with his arms raised and a trail of blood steaming down his neck.

"It's Payday, Fischoeder!" Louise smirked, and launched the bottle at him. It smashed on the floor in front of him, sending with it a burst of heat and glass shards. Fischoeder's silhouette was quickly swallowed up in a tongue of flame, and the man himself did nothing to evade it.

"I see you've been practicing, Louise!" Gene cried.

"And you had a better line than dad, too,"

"Alright alright," Bob intervened. "We both had good lines, maybe keep it at that?"

"Why Bobby, what did you say?" Linda put a hand on his shoulder.

"I uhh, I said 'keep the change'," Bob chortled to himself.

"Ohh..." Lin suddenly went quiet. Seriously?

"W-wait, you thought Louise's one was better too, Lin?" Bob looked aghast.

"...no," Linda quickly shunned his glance.

"...fine, whatever." Bob groaned. "More importantly, what're we gonna do now? We just set our landlord on fire!"

"Make smor...ds!" Gene held up a bag of marshmallows. Where did he even get them...?

"Ugh, is everyone funnier than me today?!" Bob whimpered. The sudden crashing of a beam to the ground put a dampener on all the excitement, however.

"Wait, why was this a good idea again?!" Bob flailed. "Now we're trapped in a burning house!"

"And we've only got limited shots from this shotgun, dad!" Louise nudged the weapon in his hand.

"Well yeah, but how're we gonna escape?!" Bob cried. "Run through the fire we started?! Half of us are injured!"

"Now I know how Billy Joel feels!"

"Gene, not now!"

Something exploded in the next room, and suddenly more shuffling silhouettes had appeared. Tina began making her weird humming noise, and a rotting arm punched a hole through the wall nearest to her.

"Tina!" Bob rushed in front of his daughter.

"Hah, hah, hah, hah!" She began panting, as the grisly arm in the wall scratched around, breaking off more chunks of plaster as it went.

"Hang on, I've got an idea!" Bob cocked the shotgun. He emptied a pellet into the wall, and weakened the structure some more.

"Ohh, that hurts so much..." he recoiled, falling to one knee. Bob quivered back to his feet, and took in another breath. "R-right! Everyone ready to run?!"

"Nope!" Came Gene's voice.

"Well we'll have to try!" Bob coughed. All this smoke was getting to him.

More green, slimy hands were clawing at them through the wall, but it was either that or fire.

"Teddy, take Ron! Lin, help the kids!" Bob instructed. He steeled himself, and emptied another round into the wall. Dust, plaster, and all sorts of crap rained down on them, but a small hole opened up in it.

"Everybody run!" Bob cried, and ushered them all through. Louise went first, clutching a chair leg of all things, while Linda went through with Gene and Tina, and Teddy helped a still unsteady Ron through the tiny hole.

The smoke was blinding, and zombies were shuffling all over the place. Mottled green talons clumsily flailed at them from all directions, but with Louise at the front and Bob at the back, the group were able to keep their distance.

"Okay Louise, find us an exit!" Bob shouted. "Real quick now!"

"You got it dad!" Louise yelled back, and swung her chair leg. It missed the zombie that was a foot away from her, and instead shattered a window.

"That good enough?!"

"Perfect!" Bob cried. He shoved one zombie away with the length of his shotgun, and whacked another with the butt of it. Louise buried her chair leg into a zombie's chest, and grabbed a tablecloth to throw over the window ledge. "C'mon c'mon!"

"Stay safe, Bobby!" Lin called as she clambered out of the window, helping Gene down, followed by Tina, then Ron and Teddy.

"Okay, you next Lou." Bob ordered. Louise nodded back an affirmative, and hopped onto the ledge before-

"BOBBY!"

"What?!" Bob flailed, before something green and hairy latched onto his shoulder.

"Agh!" He cried, and his knees buckled under the weight of two. Suddenly everything felt twice as heavy as Bob turned to find stupid Jimmy Pesto of all people sinking his teeth into his nape.

"Dammit...! Jimmy!" Bob raged, slicing his hand open on the glassy floor.

"DAD!" Louise tumbled off of the window ledge and back to him. "Dad, no!"

"Louise..." Bob could taste blood again. "Oh, you were so brave Louise...!"

"Dad no, don't you dare use past tense with me!" Louise grabbed at his arm and tried to drag him away. "You're supposed to say I AM so brave! That I AM your special girl, and you ARE super proud of me... dad!"

"Heh... look at you," Bob mumbled. "My little fighter. You did so well."

"Well obviously not well enough!" Louise rubbed at her face furiously. "This isn't how it's supposed to happen Dad! You're supposed to get old and senile, and then we die together in some kinda crazy stunt when I'm 44!"

"That's... oddly specific, Louise." Bob chuckled. "I guess I'm gonna have to disappoint you. Now get outta here. This convenient silence won't last forever."

"B-but Dad!"

"Go, Louise!" Bob coughed out a mouthful of blood. "...be my gunslinger, got it? I'll hold them off here. You protect our family."

Louise's face scrunched up. It had been years since he'd last seen his little girl like this. With an almighty snort, she snatched at the shotgun on the floor and took off like a shocked rabbit.

"Be safe, guys," Bob whimpered. Suddenly his expression hardened, and he buried his elbow in stupid Jimmy Pesto's dumb face. "Yeah, how'd ya like that?!"

Meanwhile a teary-eyed Louise had the shotgun prone, keeping her face hidden from Linda the others.

"What's the plan, guys?!" Linda held them all close to her.

"We do _not_ have one!" Gene cried.

"I... I guess we'll just have to shoot our way out," Louise held back a sniffle.

And the zombies circled, shuffling ever closer.

"This is for Dad!" Louise aimed a blurry shot, disintegrating a zombie's midriff. Another blast knocked her off of her feet, but took off a zombie's head in he process.

"Careful Louise!" Teddy helped her back up.

Another blast, and another downed zombie. But still they kept creeping closer.

Another shot, and more dead zombies. And still, they crept closer.

Another shot, another decapitated zombie. But they still shuffled closer.

The shotgun clicked, and Louise's eyes were full of fresh tears again.

"I... I guess we're screwed, guys." She sniffled, and threw the shotgun on the floor. Slowly the zombies edged closer, and six humans huddled together. The acrid stench of rotting limbs and drooling mouths was everywhere now. Louise clenched her eyes; if she didn't see it it wasn't happening. Stupid, but forgivable in the situation.

Suddenly she took in a fresh breath of air. With a gasp, her eyes bolted open, and Louise found herself falling off of something.

"Whoa!" She gasped. That wasn't right. Where were the zombies? The family? The Teddy and Ron?

Louise rubbed at her eyes until they started to hurt. What the hell just happened?

Blearily, she looked around at the near darkness of her room. Was it really all a dream? Something that surreal?

And why was she dreaming about zombies? That was Tina's department.

Louise juddered to her feet. Soft carpet padded her toes. Her shaking arm grasped at the handle to her door, and she wandered out into the hallway.

Instantly she was on defence mode, diving into mantis position as a deep moaning escaped the bathroom. Her heart suddenly started pounding, and sweat tickled down from her pores.

The sound of a toilet flushing, and the bathroom door creaking open. With a yawn and another moan, her father stretched, then scratched his butt.

"D-dad?!" Louise yelped, and then launched herself at him. "Oh dad, you're okay!"

"Louise...?" Bob could barely register the embrace at his navel. "This is... this is weird for you. Everything okay?"

"I uhh... I had a bad dream." Louise mumbled into his stomach.

"I thought you liked those."

"Not this one..."

"Well, it's still kinda early. You wanna sleep in our bed for a couple more hours?"

Louise smiled up at her father.

"I'd like that, dad."

"Alrighty then. Climb aboard," Bob grunted as he knelt down. With a quick itch on his shoulder, Bob piggybacked his daughter into his room.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Welp, that's it everyone. Hope you've enjoyed it. :)**


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